


Cocytus

by GrumpiestCat



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 07:51:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8481481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpiestCat/pseuds/GrumpiestCat
Summary: She quit on a Thursday.





	

She quit on a Thursday.   
  
She quit because she was getting used to it. She didn’t feel anything when she ran her fingers over the cheap ceramic dolphins on Natalie Parker’s desk. She didn’t cry when she picked up the overstuffed teddy bear on Dara Flanagan’s bed. She didn’t feel sorrow when she found Rick Besch’s body behind the middle school, his math notebook open (and bloodstained) next to him.   
  
She didn’t even feel joy when they pulled a semi-conscious Grant Carlisle from a ditch. There was just a vague sense of relief over the fact that she could go home and get some sleep.   
  
She typed up her letter of resignation on her work computer, idly wondering if Ms. Manners would have something to say about that. As she scribbled her name in dark blue ink, she decided she didn’t care. After leaving it on his desk, she lingered in his office for a while. Not because she wanted him to talk her out of it, but because she thought maybe he deserved to hear this in person. Fifteen minutes ticked by, and she decided that was enough of a courtesy.   
  
On the way to the elevator, she realized that had been about the same length of time as their last sexual encounter.  
  
-  
  
He stopped by her place on a Tuesday, three weeks after she quit.   
  
Her things were still in boxes, scattered around her living room. The only thing she had pulled out was the foam football that she and Martin used to toss around; she picked it apart while watching Jeopardy. She still didn’t feel anything.   
  
He asked about her new job. She couldn’t find a way to tell him that, even though he had given her a glowing recommendation, she hadn’t gotten the position. On the way to the kitchen to get him a drink, she passed by her calendar and counted the number of days until her rent was due.   
  
He didn’t use a coaster. She didn’t bother yelling at him about it.  
  
-  
  
She crashed her car on a Sunday.   
  
She had been speeding and fussing with the radio, but when the police arrived, she made up some story about an animal that ran out in the road. One of the cops remembered her from a case that she had forgotten. He bought her story. The doctor’s hands were cold as he pronounced that she had a fractured rib.   
  
She started to call a cab before she remembered that she only had a couple bucks on her. She started to call Vivian before she remembered that her friend was dead. She started to call Danny before she remembered that he had moved out of state. She started to call Martin, but she slammed down the phone after the fourth digit.   
  
Jack sounded irritated when he answered his cell.  
  
-  
  
They fucked in her living room on a Wednesday.   
  
They knocked over the coffee table with the stain in the wood from where he didn’t use a coaster. She heard glass breaking and realized if they kept rolling around like this, they might be cut up, so she pulled him up to the sofa. She winced when he re-entered her, but he didn’t notice. She bit down on his shoulder in retaliation. It spurred him on.   
  
She breasts were beginning to ache from the jostling when he found her clit and pinched it hard. Her fingernails dug into his arms, drawing blood. When it was over, he lay back and dozed off almost immediately. She stumbled to her feet and walked to her bathroom.   
  
As she washed her hands, she stared at the slowly healing gash on her forehead. It was going to leave a scar.   
  
-  
  
She saw her shrink on a Friday.  
  
Her new shrink, so she had to bring him up to date on her shooting and her affair with Jack and the fling with Martin and her ‘thing’ with men. He nodded and took notes, but said very little, and it was irritating. When he did speak, it was to ask her how that made her _feel_ , and this, she realized, was the peril of picking a new doctor out of a phone book.   
  
So she went home and typed the names of disorders into a search engine. There was an email from Jack (and those four messages on the machine were probably him, too), but she deleted it without opening it. Eventually, her eyes settled on the clock in the corner of her monitor, and she jumped out of her chair, knocking over a half-empty bottle of beer.   
  
Her boss chastised her in front of her co-workers. Being two hours late was not acceptable. It couldn’t happen again.   
  
-  
  
She left town on a Monday.   
  
Her flight was delayed, so she camped out at the bar, drinking cheap beer and eating stale chips. She absently glanced around the airport, almost expecting to see Jack running down the corridor, face flushed, eyes panicked. It was foolish; he didn’t even know she was leaving. Nobody knew.   
  
Nobody was going to come looking for her.   
  
The voice over the intercom told her that it was time to go. She picked up her bag and made her way through the crowds. She tried to feel sorrow over what she was leaving behind. She tried to feel excitement over the concept of starting a new life somewhere else.   
  
She still felt nothing.

 

(fin.)


End file.
